


Opposites Attract

by daiquiri (eClear)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "unrequited", Beginnings, Dreams, Fluff, HQ Rarepair Week, Language, M/M, Texting, TsukiHina, a beginning of something, date, god tags why are you so difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eClear/pseuds/daiquiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that opposites attract... and this proves true in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Streetlights

**Author's Note:**

> Both POVs in the first chapter as their first impressions come to light...aka the worst first impressions ever ;;

It was the night of the full moon.

The streetlights lit their too pure looking fluorescent rays upon the streets of Miyagi prefecture, the occasional passerby walking on the streets from the local grocery store or biking to the train station en route to the much more urban city of Sendai. Familiar and unfamiliar faces walk, giving the occasional nod and chatter carries through the still brisk April wind.

Hard guitar and bass ring in his ears through the white headphones that sit comfortably on his head. Not too tight, not too loose as the padding wraps the shells of his ears, a male’s tenor voice flowing through his ears as he walks straight towards his destination with Yamaguchi by his side. Yamaguchi was talking about their earlier practice, about the captain and the senpais that were there as he himself vaguely listened, inserting a comment here or there nonchalantly with a cool tone. There was no reason to be fired up over this, or the three-on-three match they were assigned to. Ahead of the pair, two moving figures began to come into sight, and Tsukishima let a smile crawl across his face. A smile filled not with happiness, but one of prey that found its target. Specifically, Kageyama Tobio, the King of the Court. And also his opponent for the match this Saturday.

His long strides, followed by Yamaguchi close behind, brought him closer to the scene without letting a sound, calmly arriving at the destination as he slid his headphones off to his neck. The music still rang through the speakers, drums and guitar playing with a catchy beat. It took no time to rile Kageyama up, pointed comments on his nickname that he only heard rumors of. Really, he enjoyed this. He enjoyed the expressions, the reactions he receives from riling up the latter party. Because why not? Human reactions are the best part of the human- if oneself remains calm, then the other person will do the same. That will be their downfall. What Tsukiyama wasn’t expecting was the gust of wind blowing from his foot past his head, the volleyball from his hand being lifted off, and the boy in midair that looked as if he was flying. After landing, Tsukishima internally was baffled- this kid’s hair was **ORANGE**. Who’s natural hair color is orange besides an alien, he thinks slightly before remembering his own sandy blonde hair. That’s not too common for Japanese either.

“I’m here too!!” The smaller one, later saying his name is Hinata Shōyō, looks up defiantly at him, announcing his presence with that mane of orange hair. Tsukishima can’t help but smirk at this, sending his trademark cool voice like a spear through him. His initial thoughts culminate to someone that is straightforward- someone he would never get along with. Over his dead body.

That’s how everything began. In the grass field near the baseball diamond, with the winds blowing through the air.

That’s how he met Hinata Shōyō, his opposite in every way.

* * *

 

It was the night of the full moon.

The fields were quiet, grass tickling the white tennis shoes that bound upon the ground. Nearby sports teams that were practicing have long gone, only replaced with the sounds of grass beings crushed under his feet as his whole body lurches for the spike. In front of him is Kageyama, the boy he had sworn to defeat last year that, as fate had so graciously laughed in his face, is now his teammate. They had been at this practice for hours just in today, but Hinata doesn’t want to give up. He isn’t going to give up. His white sneakers now are marred with grass stains and splashes of dirt, white shirt very much in a similar state. A light layer of sweat encases his skin, evident at how his slightly baggy shirt was much more apt to sticking onto him than the previous hours. It was just him and Kageyama in this giant field, no one would dare interrupt their practice. At least, that was until he had missed the ball, the red, green and white sphere rolling off and into the hands of...

Oh my gosh he’s a giant, Hinata thinks as he steps to the side for the two new arrivals into the secluded field. The one holding the ball dawned on his face a peculiar kind of smile- not the kind of genuine, happy smile that Natsu would have when she got a candy, but one of mockery, like he was looking down on someone. Hinata wasn’t exactly the most perceptive person, but his gut was telling him this guy didn’t have a good personality. At least, his first impression was terrible, and with that light hair he really could give those light posts a run for their money.

The blonde haired boy kept jabbing at Kageyama with this nickname called the “King of the Court”, and Hinata didn’t understand why Kageyama was getting so mad over it. The icy blue eyes filled with flames of rage, not the kind that he has seen in the gymnasium but one that could chill you to the bone. His eyes shifted to the freckled, olive brown haired boy, seeing him as a follower to the blonde boy with glasses. The three taller boys were paying no attention to him, the blonde spewing remark after remark, egging Kageyama to react more. Anger bubbled inside him, one part from the constant jabs but two parts being ignored. He used the hop in his steps to spring up, grabbing the ball out of the blonde’s hands, and the glimpse of the surprised look on his face was worth it.

“I’m here too!!” Hinata declares loudly, trying his best to send a glare the blonde’s way. Unfortunately the brief moment of bravery wavered as the cool words were directed at him for a short time. His first impression of the blonde was that he was closed off, someone that he never really was able to get along with in the past.

That’s how everything began. In the grass field near the baseball diamond, with the winds blowing through the air.

That’s how he met Tsukishima Kei, his opposite in every way.


	2. Do You Really Speak Japanese?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both are born and raised in the same prefecture, in the same country. And yet, why can't they understand each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Language  
> The next chapter will most likely only include from one perspective as both sides begin to converge. However this previous sentence sounded much cooler in my head I apologize.

It may be one of those “why would you ask that the answer is obvious” comments, but the official language of the country of Japan is Japanese. Of course different regions have their own dialect, words that could mean one thing in one region could mean something completely different in another. However, that wasn’t the problem that Tsukishima was having as his eyes wandered from the Classical Japanese written on the chalkboard to the field below where a class was having their physical education. Soccer, it looked like, as the patterned ball and goals were evident in nature, and as to the question of who was participating was easy to tell- that orange head could be spotted from kilometers away. Class 1-1. Hinata’s class.

 

This was the conundrum that Tsukishima was puzzled about, more so than the easy lecture that was being presented by an elderly gentleman in a slightly worn looking grey suit. They were from the same country, and on top of that born and raised in the same prefecture. Their dialect is the same, so there shouldn’t be any complications in the logical sense. And yet, for the life of him, he simply could not understand what Hinata said most of the time. He scoffs at his onomatopoeias to describe everything,  his screams about volleyball that aren’t even coherent words, almost everything that comes out of that vocal chamber in a never-ending forte tone. He was much too loud, much too bright, much too straightforward. There was no reason to try and communicate with him really, their levels of mentality seemed to be levels apart. Interactions with the orange hair were limited to club activities, Tsukishima tending to be reserved in the classroom with Yamaguchi at his side for lunch or being called out to the hallway by a girl for a confession. In fact, besides those times that are unfortunate run-ins at the vending machine and practice, there’s hardly time when he’s forced to deal with the shorty.

 

He knows this, and yet it somehow urkes him that he can’t understand what Hinata’s saying. It bothers him that he can’t understand those onomatopoeias when others seem to be able to soak it up like sponges, or those loud shouts that just somehow reverberate all around the gym walls, surrounding everyone in the gym with some sort of energy. Contagious energy that most people, like Nishinoya or Tanaka, find energizing, but to people like him, it’s infectious like a disease. Much too hot, blistering hot. Tsukishima lets out a barely audible sigh, escaping the teacher’s pointed glare by showing him the pristine notes that he had already taken on the subject.

 

‘He’s an idiot, there’s no point in thinking about how to communicate with him’, he thinks dully as the pencil he held in his hand spun between his index and middle finger. His brain, the logic that had built up over the years won for the day as he gave the subject no more thought, returning to blankly staring at the white chalk continuing to write out the Tales of Genji in boredom.

 

They spoke different languages within Japanese. He spoke logic, cool and collected, never panicking, never faltering. He chose to ignore the tiny little voice in the back of his mind to learn the language of warmth, of constant energy, straightforwardness with nothing to hide.

 

* * *

 

Practice had been going on smoothly, the quick strike combination with Kageyama going well and the senpai had praised him. He even won a garigari-kun treat after practice from Nishinoya, something that Hinata is more than glad to take up. A much needed water break comes up, his throat swallowing water as if it were the first time tasting the substance, a much needed relief after the sweat inducing workout.

 

His eyes wander as his chatter stops with the senpai, resting on Tsukishima’s tall figure wiping a towel on his face, cleaning his glasses off as well. Now Hinata knew that he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he knew that there seemed to be a wall between him and Tsukishima. Naturally people have their own different types of walls to put up, but over time they can either chip a little or completely break down, revealing their true character. Like Kageyama, who was a cold jerk (and can still be one now) is perfectly in sync with him, Hinata putting all of his trust into Kageyama’s tosses, and Kageyama trusting Hinata to spike them down. His senpai were all nice, and he even chats with Yamaguchi on the occasions that they run into each other in the hallways or at Sakanoshita.

 

Everyone except for Tsukishima, really.

 

As far as he knows, Tsukishima is 100% Japanese despite the sandy blonde hair and tall stature possibly suggesting otherwise. Besides even he himself knew that the orange tuff of a mess atop his head wasn’t exactly the average natural features of a Japanese person either.  As as far as he knows, they were both born and raised in the same prefecture, just somehow going to different schools until this point. But for the life of him and all the brain cells in his mind working, Hinata can’t understand a single word that Tsukishima says. The tones were all off- they weren’t warm or energizing, or kind or even light. They were cool, resembling something akin to ice. He wouldn’t say they were mean all of the time (just most of the time), just that they were cunning words. Like he knew what exactly to say to get the best reaction out of people. If the words weren’t cool, Tsukishima opted to staying quiet, not giving an edge to break that wall. If the Iron Wall of Datekou was known to be difficult, then this one was practically impossible.

 

He figured that they were the opposites in many aspects besides the physical appearance. Hinata usually acted before thinking while Tsukishima seemed to be the exact opposite. Tsukishima’s words were usually filled with logic, something that Hinata barely had a hair of a grasp of. To be honest, he didn’t think that there was much of a chance that he would be able to get through where Yamaguchi, Tsukishima’s long time friend it seemed, was at the stalemate of “Tsukki’s” and following him around. But, something in him spurred as the optimistic self came out full throttle “OSHAAAAAA” scream belching from his diaphragm. Needless to say he got hit in the head by Kageyama and surprised nearly everyone in the gym, but Hinata was determined. He hadn’t been called a people magnet in 4th grade for nothing.

 

They spoke different languages within Japanese. He spoke instinct and warmth, always actions before words, always straightforward. He chose to slowly perhaps, to figure out the intricate details of the language of logic that sounded like gibberish to him. Perhaps that way, he could get Tsukishima to open up to him, or perhaps be a little less of a jerk to him. That would be a plus.

 

 


	3. Rain Drop Vinyls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden downpour of rain sets the ball rolling for an unexpected event.
> 
> Prompt 3: Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POVs are interchangeable, some parts Hinata others Tsukishima. Dedicated for Sophie that Tsukishima loves vinyls.

“I can’t believe this.”

 

“Stop being such a negative nancy Tsukishima!”

 

Tsukishima lets his trademark death glare fall upon the shorter as he takes out his phone irritably, cursing Tanaka to the depths of hell in his mind. Hinata for his part, slightly cowered away at the glare, but proceeded to sink in the situation that the two of them were in. It was a Saturday a few weeks after their defeat at the Inter-Highs, every day filled with training regiments and renewed vigor for most people. Tsukishima, for his part, kept at his own pace- just because everyone else was fired up, it was necessary for him to follow suit. Not when he knows that just because one puts more effort, more energy into something doesn’t equate to getting the desired result, . But, that had no pertinence to the issue at hand. The issue was that Tsukishima was stuck with Hinata in a rainstorm so bad the public transportation ceased to a hat for the time being in at least 5 cities away from their hometown. Apparently the others had managed to use the calling system and got the warnings for the weather in time, but Tanaka’s message only just came through onto the screen and Hinata had forgotten his cellphone in the disarray of waking up late. Typical.

 

Hinata held onto his bike handles tightly as the metal became colder at the touch. June was a rainy season for Japan, prone to typhoons and the like. Yet that was the last thing in Hinata’s mind when Sugawara had suggested that the team go out on something “rejuvenating and team bonding.” Of course the team’s reactions were relatively positive with Hinata bounding at the excitement of an outside of practice team bonding time, something he rarely if not ever experienced in middle school. Tsukishima on the other hand carried on the facade of indifference if not a bit of annoyance, albeit since the upperclassmen suggested it he had no choice in the matter to participate or not (it was participate, there’s no other option). Again, it was the last thing on his mind when he rose that morning an hour after the alarm was supposed to ring, stumbling along as he dashed out the door with a cool crunchy toast between his teeth, hands on the cool bike handles under the gnarly looking sky. He jumped in surprise as the downpour began, his pedalling increasing in speed as he arrived at the meeting place, dripping in water from head to toe only to see an annoyed Tsukishima standing under the awning of the usually busy street. On top of that since he was in a rush to get there on time or, at the very least not as late as he could be, his cellphone (which is sure to have at least one or two calls from Kageyama yelling at him that there’s no hangout today) lay in the abyss of covers, clothes and papers conveniently forgotten through the power of selective memory.

 

Hinata’s eyes wander down the streets, examining the surrounding areas for any sort of excitement. Standing in one singular place was never a talent of his, his leg already jittering for some sort of activity. Tsukishima placed on his opaque white headphones, those one that just seem to comfortably nestle onto his head, with a little bit of music leaking out to reach Hinata’s ears. The shops normally open are cut down to half, favoring to bring in their advertising signs away from the damaging liquid drops falling from the sky while others, such as the cafe at the street corner, was so filled with people Hinata actually couldn’t see the kind old lady that works there half the time. Then his eyes rest on the light “open” sign still resting at a relatively vacant looking store.

 

“Tsukishima let’s go there!!” he nearly shouted as Hinata grabbed Tsukishima’s arm shaking and pointing at the store a good ten meters from their location but still under the same awning. This earned him another glare of a thousand arrows, and his spirit sunk lower as he let out a sneeze. Not unexpected, considering Tsukishima seemed to like being alone or just in general enjoying the quiet atmosphere. What Hinata wasn’t expecting was a small towel slowly falling on his head, and seeing Tsukishima’s back heading towards the store in silence. Dumbfounded, it took Hinata a few seconds before coming back to his senses, a bright grin on his face with bike in tow, and unbeknownst to him, a slight pink hue dusting his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

The store bell clinked gently as Tsukishima opened the door, a kindly old man at the counter giving him a small greeting before returning his gaze to a rather thick novel. An aroma of nostalgia swept over him as his eyes scanned the vast amounts of CDs and vinyls that were amassed in the store. Lightly patting the sleeve that was wrinkled due to Hinata’s excessive arm pulling, his long legs took him to the American classic vinyls. It was no secret to anyone that he had an appreciation for music, but Tsukishima did harbor a soft spot for vinyls of older music, before the well-known modern “pop” was in. He didn’t expect for the direction Hinata pointed to have a CD/vinyl store in that direction, and secretly, he was a bit thankful that the day was not a complete and utter waste. However, now the same person was fidgeting next to him after  “oooo” and “aaaa” -ing all around the store at the different CDs. Now that he entered into the vinyl territory he seems to be at a bit of a loss, not knowing any of the bands.

 

“...stop fidgeting like you’re going to wet yourself in the hallway” a teasing remark flows through his lips with his traditional mocking smile, earning him the exact response he expected- an indignant start of a shout from Hinata before realizing the old man was still reading.

 

“I am NOT going to pee!! … Just, what bands are these. What ARE these” Hinata was flipping through the vinyls like ordinary pieces of paper, and this beyond belief made Tsukishima annoyed. Swiftly he grips Hinata’s wrist, halting the smaller’s movements before letting go of the uncharacteristic act. That idiot’s going to ruin these if he keeps doing that, he thinks as he pulls a Beatles vinyl out of the stack, proceeding to pull the vinyl out of the case.

 

“I’m only going to explain this once. This is a vinyl record, and was used to store music on in the past.” He didn’t feel like explaining much more in detail, knowing that this kid was an idiot beyond belief and would take forever to soak in any information. Or at least Tsukishima thought so, but Hinata surprised him by stating “So like CDs?” Tsukishima merely nods with his standard neutral expression, not dignifying him with a verbal response.

 

“Who are these people?” Hinata points at the cover in Tsukishima’s hand, a picture of the Beatles playing clearly on it. And the word BEATLES clearly on the cover. Tsukishima sighs, exhausting his patience already to even tell the orange-haired boy about vinyls in general. But it’d be even more troublesome if Hinata’s question was left unanswered, and he didn’t know how long the rainstorm was going to last.

 

“The Beatles. They were an English rock band, classic. Anybody with a liking for music would know” Personally he was a fan of the Beatles music, enjoying the rock influences that were resonating clear and pure back in the day. Holding onto the vinyl his fingers breeze through the other vinyls and CDs, carefully picking out what to purchase on this rainy day. Hinata kept making exclamations all around, Tsukishima opting to drown him out, ignore him or answer his mountain of questions with as few words as possible. Eventually, they ended up in front of the cash register, the old man kindly wrapping the vinyl and CDs with waterproof material and bag.

 

“You two are such a nice young couple”

 

Tsukishima nearly dropped his wallet, letting out a dumb sounding “huh” out of his lips at the out of the blue, so very untrue comment. Luckily Hinata didn’t seem to have heard the comment, shifting his attention to the plushies near the front window but hidden from the public eye. But before he could clarify that he was in no way or form dating this idiot of a human being, the old man was in the back behind the ‘employees only’ door. Lightly he clicks his tongue, but as he looks down at his purchases and noticing the rain had subsided, his mood couldn’t be too down. It had been a quick hour, and with the unpredictable weather patterns, it was best to go when the public transportation starts. Tsukishima turns his back to the store and begins heading towards the station when,

 

“Tsukishima!!”

 

He sighs as he hears his name bellowed out into the streets, turning around to see Hinata on his bike, holding in his hand the small white towel.

 

“I’ll wash this and give it back to you!! Thanks for today!!” A bright smile was sent towards his way, which Tsukishima responded by putting his headphones on, turning on Eleanor Rigby to moderate levels as he looks back for a second longer. Hinata seemed content with that response, biking away in the opposite direction, supposedly up that hill that helped built up that ridiculous stamina level.

 

Tsukishima himself convinces himself that he lent him the towel because honestly. a sick Hinata would be worse to deal with than a healthy Hinata. Dealing with a sick teammate would just take an awful lot of effort, even more of a fuss, even more of everything unnecessary.

  
He refuses to acknowledge that today wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. 


	4. Confusing Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both parties begin to realize, or not realize, some things.

It’s been a few weeks since the surprise outing with just the two of them, and ever since Hinata had been on a volleyball streak, hitting each toss harder and sharper than ever before. Sugawara and Tanaka sang praises of him, Nishinoya was so proud of his kouhai, and the captain was sending him approving smiles like a proud father. Despite the current lack of dialogue between himself and Kageyama, much to Yachi’s chagrin and worry, Hinata’s life is right now currently on a high streak. Thanks to Yachi’s tutoring he’s learning better than before, or at least retaining it for slightly longer. Although he wouldn’t have minded being tutored by Tsukishima, in fact he would have liked the tag team tutoring from both of them, he doubted Tsukishima would want to continue with that responsibility. Even before Tsukishima was only willing to look over their work and check up on the smaller points before and after practice.

 

Hinata’s skips down the hallway slowly turn into regular steps upon reflection. Even though he seemed very reluctant and disliked the prospect of the activity, Tsukishima had properly tutored both Kageyama and himself on the subjects that were covered. It was precise, and perhaps not as detailed and nice of an explanation (or nice in general) like Yachi’s, but it had a different sort of tone and effect. Regardless, he still helped, along with when Tsukishima handed the towel over Hinata’s head on that rainy day. He still hasn’t returned that towel, it’s sitting neatly folded on his bedside drawers in stark contrast to the rest of the mess. For some reason he always thought that because it was Tsukishima’s, he had to make it clean. But at the same time, he also thought that Tsukishima would wonder where his towel was or when Hinata was going to give it back. His feet slowly take him into the outside courtyard, hand in his pocket jingling just enough change for his favorite brand of milk carton that this one vending machine conveniently housed. A hum escapes his lips, actually the humming tune for “Yellow Submarine,” a song that he found to be catchy by the Beatles despite not knowing pretty much anything what they were singing about. After the unexpected hang out between the two of them, he had taken it to himself to research the Beatles to at least prove to Tsukishima that he was knowledgeable, but also to be able to talk to him more. He was determined to communicate and break that hard icy tall 188.3cm wall.

 

“.....I like you Tsukishima-kun…”

 

Hinata’s humming comes to a sudden halt as his palms slam on his face. The vending machine was right across from him, behind the gymnasium, and yet between him and the vending machine was a small little crevice of a courtyard. By the sounds of it, and the nervous high pitched voice, it was a girl confessing her feelings to Tsukishima. His Tsukishima.

 

Wh-what the heck am I thinking?! Hinata shakes his head violently, trying so desperately to not make a single noise as his face heated up. Why on earth would he think his Tsukishima, Tsukishima didn’t belong to him, he wasn’t some toy. He wasn’t like his sister’s new coloring book that she learned how to say was hers, and him in turn congratulating her for learning the new words. But this was different, his heartbeat was louder than before, his own breath slightly going erratic, magically still remaining relatively quiet throughout the whole ordeal. It probably was only a few seconds before the familiar cool voice reached his ears, but it felt like whole hours had gone by. The suspense was killing him, sneaking up as he feared for the worst answer- an answer that he couldn’t decide if Tsukishima accepting or not was the worst answer. He didn’t know.

 

“I don’t like you. Good bye”

 

It was simple, concise, and to the point. There was no way of misinterpreting his response as his complete rejection of this girl, whoever she was, was evident. along with her breaking voice asking “Why? Why won’t you give me a chance?” Hinata’s own heart seemed to have received cracks from her statements, otherwise why would he be clutching his own heart like he was the one receiving that response? Why was he thinking like this it didn’t even make sense, all he wanted to do was to get milk for 100 yen across the way. Yeah, that’s all he wanted. But at this point if he ran across Tsukishima would know that he was listening in. So, he opted to do the next best option- stay put until they leave.

 

“Why would I give someone I don’t even know a chance.”

 

Hinata can imagine the face that Tsukishima has on now- a sort of smile, but not the nice heartwarming smile that Sugawara gives or the encouraging charismatic one that Nishinoya does. No, Tsukishima’s smile would be a fake sort of smile, or maybe it wasn’t fake, but the kind where he was looking down on someone, mocking him. And Hinata internally confirms this as the girl who was presumably confessing dashed out passing by him, tears brimming down her cheeks.

 

Suddenly the idea of getting milk didn’t seem all that appealing. Hinata walked out slowly away from the scene, conflicted. He feels bad for the girl, rejection he imagines hurts to warrant those tears, albeit had had no personal experience of confessing or being the one confessed to. But, just a small part of him, a part that he yet doesn’t quite understand, is happy that the girl was rejected.

 

This is confusing.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima lets out a soft sigh as he puts his pencil silently on the hand-me-down desk, finishing the final math problem of his homework for the night. His eyes travel to the clock hanging on the wall which reads 11:08PM, shoulders relaxing in the slightly large sweatshirt he donned that night. Without having the need to see any sort of human society for the rest of the night and muscles aching from the extra training, Tsukishima had opted to wear his favorite worn, loose slim sweats that were a few shades washed than the original tone, and his brother’s old hoodie that secretly was his favorite relaxing clothing item. He didn’t know himself what it was, considering the rift of trust between him and the elder Tsukishima from years ago, but this sweatshirt hand-me-down always relaxed his usually tense stature or the unconsciously constricted muscles he may have had.

 

His cellphone gives a quick buzz on the desk, slightly rattling the dinosaur figure carefully placed on display as Tsukishima put away his schoolwork into the shoulder bag. There was nothing worse than completing work but leaving it on the desk at home. The efforts, or whatever that was put into it, would’ve been a complete waste otherwise. A slight grumble escapes his lips at the name displayed on screen- Hinata. Tsukishima recalls the events of lunch- another girl whom he didn’t even know (or really even cared to know) the name of had confessed to him in the nook courtyard tucked safely in the school grounds. He didn’t have an interest in anyone to begin with, let alone girls that approached him practically nameless asking him to give them a chance. It was a pattern that he had seen numerous times before, and his answer was always the same. This time, he knew that they were being watched- the orange messy hair sticking out from behind the side wall was a clear indicator of who was there as well. Not that he should care, it was a mere observation. Despite this, he knew that the way he shot down the girl was much more vocal than usual, not the usual cold shoulder he gives at the end of it all. No, this time he clearly stated that he had no interest in her, with his usual smile of indifference at any possible hurt feelings. Perhaps he was a cold person, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what rejection was like, and wasn’t something he was keen on finding out. The one thing that was surprising (since the girl’s reactions were so predictable, and he’d seen too many tears to be guilted by another regular tear or two) was that when his long legs strode over, Hinata was nowhere to be seen. Tsukishima himself didn’t know why that was considered surprising, or why he felt that way. It was rude to eavesdrop on people anyways, he could just huff out a single annoyed short sigh at his the shrimp had finally learned manners for once, but that wasn’t what struck him. It seemed like, even to his mind it didn’t make sense, that he had wanted Hinata to hear his response.

 

Tsukishima doesn’t like this uncertainty.

 

He sets down the phone, opting to ignore the message icon on his screen begging him to press the button. Instead, his fingers intertwine slightly in front of him as a soothing jazz song comes on through his usual headphones, letting his lower half sink onto the soft bed. A few seconds of uninterrupted music, then the phone buzzes uncontrollably. Irritation slowly built up until his right hand grabbed the smartphone, glaring at the screen to see 8 new messages, all from the same orange-haired kid. Sleep wasn’t going to happen with the phone buzzing away like that, and he wasn’t going to waste his energy in the morning to deal with whatever this kid wanted to talk about loudly in person. His thumb hovers over as he opens the first message from the short middle blocker.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "unrequited" but I tweaked it slightly to the possible fear of their feelings, unbeknownst to even themselves at this point, to be unrequited.


	5. Communication Disconnection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are introduced to their first crossroads, where their meanings may intersect for the first time.

Hinata laid there on the hard tatami in his messy room, staring blankly at the ceiling light hanging with the traditional frame fixture. His homework lay there forgotten as his mind wandered far away from its existence, thinking upon the events during lunch. Specifically, at the words that Tsukishima had said to the girl, how hurt the girl looked, and how his own heart hurt slightly as if the words were directed at him. That was precisely what he didn’t understand. Why did his heart feel like a needle stung it, but at the same time why was he happy that the girl was receiving the rejection? He didn’t understand it, these were completely foreign things to the 16 year old boy whose whole life had revolved around volleyball (for the past four years of his life at least), and before that...before that probably other things like crayfish catching. Things were so simple in his life, or things are simple, just that he didn’t understand these little hitches that are happening recently.

  
He rolls his body to lay on his side, the neatly folded towel on the bedside dresser coming into his line of sight. ‘I still need to give that back to Tsukishima’ he thinks, wondering what sort of timing would be best. After practices Tsukishima doesn’t really stick around with the rest of the team as they go get meat buns, opting usually to presumably head home with some sort of music drumming through those headphones of his. Suddenly Hinata has a brilliant idea- why doesn’t he just ask Tsukishima himself? After all, Tsukishima is noticeably and undeniably smarter than Hinata (much to his chagrin to admit that). Abruptly he sits up, the odd pillow on the ground flopping a bit away as his arm caught its covering. His phone, a classic flip phone, is soon in his hand, and all of that energy he just had until a second ago just suddenly halted.

_What am I going to_   _write._

This wasn't something that happened often. Maybe, maybe it even was the first time that this happened. He always had a comment to say, or a noise to say, some sort of response. And yet, with the text message blank addressing to "Tsukishima," he didn't know how to phrase what he wanted to say. What did he even _want_ to say though?  He squeezed his eyes shut, his brows furrowing as he tried to think up of what he wanted to say. Soon, his fingers were pushing the keys, and the message was sent out before he himself could register what he had said.

"Hey I have a question!!!!"

That's what the message wrote. He figures, even though that is technically true, and his heart was a half beat faster than normal, that that would convey something, right? He waits for a minute. Five minutes. His leg begins to shake with impatience, and the seconds seem to tick away slowly. It's night time right? Tsukishima doesn't have anything else to do at night right?

_What. What if he somehow went out and got lost?!_

Hinata's mind begins to create elaborate scenarios, each worse and much more unbelievable than the last. But this silence, even though it was a mere few minutes, seemed to him hours. In fact, Tsukishima was probably sleeping, but that didn't matter. That logical side (or whatever logic that actually resides in Hinata) was much too quiet in contrast to his emotion. Emotions that were previously nervous have been exchanged with emotions of worry. What if his house became haunted and zashikiwarashi decided to pull a prank?!  WHAT IF HE WAS TAKEN BY AN ALIEN. What if that cow in the fields nearby went and sat on him.  _  
_

His thumbs moved uncontrollably into "ARE YOU OKAY?!" "ARE YOU ALIVE!!" "TSUKISHIMA DON'T LET THAT COW SIT ON YOU" and he was stumbling about gathering his coat and socks to make a dash to the Tsukishima home (which, he doesn't know where, but if he runs he'll eventually get there right?) when his phone make a received message tone. It was from Tsukishima. 

"Stop blowing up my phone."

The message was simple, direct, a little on the mean-side, very Tsukishima-like. But even then, those words sent a wave of calm that Hinata was more than not surprised happened. 

"But Tsukishima I had a question!! And you didn't answer so I thought bad things would happen!!"

The message sends, and a minute later, a response.

"Are you stupid."

He could practically see the mocking smile. Or an irritated death glare. Or both, really. Another tone and he opens the next text.

"Well. Stupid enough to eavesdrop, no doubt." 

Hinata practically began to cold sweat on the spot.  _He knows_. Tsukishima knew that he was eavesdropping on the confession scene. Not like he did anything, and it was a complete accident, but his nerves began to bunch up in uncomfortable ways. Why did he feel like this. 

"Well it's your fault for getting confessed there!! I just wanted milk!!"

This was more of a 'just get some words out' sort of text, an excuse. But he breathes in. This isn't what he wanted to know. 

"I have a question!! And I will keep texting you until you respond!!!!"

"I'm turning off my phone."

He sends that response shortly after, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get any sleep if he doesn't get when he should return the towel. Except that the text he sent instead was definitely nothing about a towel.

"Why do I feel so confused when you do things?!?!" 

.... 

_Oh no. What did I send._

He sends a follow-up right after, saying "THATS NOT IT. WHEN DO YOU WANT YOUR TOWEL BACK" 

A response doesn't come back right away, and Hinata thinks that Tsukishima finally got pissed enough to turn off the phone for good. He wouldn't doubt it, it seems like a very Tsukishima thing to do. But, he found himself wishing that, maybe he was still awake. After what seemed like an eternity, a message came. The last message of the night.

"Tomorrow after practice."

Tsukishima didn't touch on the first question. Maybe he thought that it was meant for someone else. Hinata sends a final goodnight text with a thank you and turns off the light. Sliding into bed, his face unnaturally heats up at that slip. It was a slip, he didn't even know why he sent that. He was glad that he could get rid of that towel, and he was glad that Tsukishima didn't respond. 

But, at the same time much to Hinata's chagrin and confused mind, a small part of him wished that Tsukishima had answered that question.

* * *

 

The messages he had received were of ridiculous accusations. Why would a cow sit on him. Tsukishima's irritation was on full despite the soothing jazz enveloping his ears. He just wanted to relax, not deal with the noisy rabble that clearly was blaring through the text. At first, he just wanted to send a 'go away' message and turn off the phone, but he couldn't help making fun of the orange-haired kid. Even through text he enjoyed the reactions he could siphon from that kid. But what he didn't expect was that text.

"Why do I feel so confused when you do things?!?!"  

He stares at the screen, at that particular message. It's been 20 minutes since Hinata had sent a seemingly rushed goodnight text which he profusely ignored. This one text though, this one line made his mind go blank for a full second, and still continues to puzzle him. 

Normally he would figure something out very quickly, analyze people by their movements, their reactions. That's why he was good at riling people up- because he observed how and what would push them the most. And yet, here was Hinata, who would eternally confuse him, who Tsukishima himself doubted half the time that he spoke Japanese, let alone a language that is categorized on Earth. 

"...whatever."

He mumbles, sinking away into the resumed music. Debussy. Clair de lune. 

_Why do I feel so confused when you do things_.

The words circle through his mind, and he has to forcibly shove them away before he could even get a semblance of sleep. And even then, the confusion was coupled with a dash of a flutter that he wasn't familiar with. 

_How would I know, idiot._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sits and does the traditional Takeda bow* Thank you for sticking with this story all of this time! I apologize for the lack of updating, but with real life things sorted out, hopefully it'll pick up again! 
> 
> Zashikiwarashi is a spirit that lives in a home and conducts mischief and harmless pranks. Hinata's image of what it is slightly warped due to his worry/nerves.


	6. Dream Telephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are a realm to escape reality...or to realize what might have been there all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very light spoiler alert of Tsukishima background, but hopefully would've kept it to a bare minimum.

_He woke up laying on his back staring into a vast scene of white. He doesn't know how he got there, or why he's there, but he stands up, shaking the orange hair that serves as such a vibrant color against his surroundings. Suddenly, he's in the familiar gym, smelling the fresh salonpas and dim scent of light sweat, hearing the squeaks created by sneakers that leave slight skid marks from sheer ferocity. The only sounds that are missing are the familiar chatter between the third years, shouting from the second years, and even the calm demeanor of the other half of the Oddball Combo. And volleyball._

_Hinata walks to the center of the gym, nose a few centimeters from the net and bends down to pick up the familiar patterned ball. The weight in his hands is comforting, and he smiles brightly at the thought. The colors revolve around each other, and memories of the experiences from both middle and high school fill his heart. Then, he hears a soft click- it's as if someone was just now approaching him. Clicks echo around him, the only sound in this peculiar place and yet it encompasses his being. Hinata's eyes remain on the ball as the clicks stop right in front of him. Half of him wants to keep looking at the ball, at the comforts that it brings, and yet the other half wants to know what- or who- is right there in front of him. He feels uncertain, and yet at the same time excited, and dared to look up. So he did._

Tsukishima Kei.

_Hinata's neck bends back slightly as he stares into the taller boy's eyes. The light reflects on his brown...hazel?... eyes, giving them a colder stare. Those piercing eyes staring into his own, judging him, trying to read him. Then_

Tsukishima laughed.

It's a different kind of laugh.

_Hinata's only ever heard Tsukishima laugh a few times, and they were mocking at best, condescending at worst. But, this was different. Tsukishima's eyes weren't cold anymore; they were warm, not the warmth like the summer sun, but of the beginning of fall where the sun is faintly warm but comfortable at the same time. The cold shine was nowhere to be found, and Hinata realized that it was just the glasses giving off that glare in the first place. The smile wasn't mocking either. It wasn't the loud laughter that he himself possessed, but a soft, quiet, genuine laugh._

_His heartbeat was racing as if he was in an intense game. His face was burning as if he had been in the sun for far too long. Yet, he didn't want to look anywhere else. He didn't want to look away; he wanted to drink in this view of Tsukishima Kei, the cool-headed one of the group, laughing quietly. Before he realized it, his arms were outstretched, passing under the net that divided the two, still holding the volleyball in his hands. He didn't know why, he just felt like he should. His arms shook slightly, cold sweat in his palms as his heart was pounding like crazy in his ears._

Tsukishima reaches out and takes the ball from him.

_The exchange was brief, but the gym had disappeared all around the two of them. All there was left was the net, them, and a warm feelings that enveloped them both. Tsukishima looks at the ball, turning it in his larger hands, examining the red, green and white. Then, his eyes meet Hinata's, and Hinata is rightly about to collapse into that spot. Tsukishima's mouth opens, and his lips begin to form something..._

 

Hinata's eyes fly open as he is staring into the familiar, dimly lit ceiling above his bed. Abruptly he sits up, hand grabbing his pajama shirt in the chest. His heart was beating rapidly, and notices that his breathing is a little more erratic than usual. 

"What did Tsukishima say...?" 

He thought and thought, but the details of the dream were beginning to fade as reality began to wrap its fingers around his mind. There is one thing, however, that he remembered clearly from the dream that no real, tangible thing could make him forget: that smile. 

Hinata wasn't imagining it when his heart fluttered at the thought.

* * *

 

_The first thing that he notices is that he's much shorter, and the second thing that he notices is that he's in the gym. It's not a gym that he recognizes, but he also thinks that most gyms look the same anyways. The smells must be the same, because the tinge of salonpas tickles his nose, and the air is filled with the faint scent of sweat and hardwork. He turns around, and his eyes are wide as saucers._

_"Nii-chan!" His was voice higher, his old voice before he hit puberty. He runs with all his might, but nii-chan looks sad as he drops the volleyball that he was holding. No, no, he thinks as he runs to get closer, but nii-chan is walking away. His short steps can't catch up to nii-chan's longer strides. Soon his own running becomes a steady walk, his line of vision going higher and higher, and finally he stops in front of the volleyball net as his high school self. He can't see his older brother anymore, no matter how far he looks. Sighing, he looks down to see the volleyball that nii-san left. He was greeted with something - someone- else entirely._

Hinata Shouyou. 

_The orange-haired loudmouth "aspiring ace" was staring back up at him, large hazel eyes (possibly mixed in with light orange, wouldn't be surprising considering the hair color) unwavering as he held the ball in his hands. He looked nervous, his face with a slight twinge of pink. The grip he had on the volleyball was so tight that it looked like he could pop the ball with sheer willpower. Tsukishima keeps looking down, Hinata keeps looking up. Finally, Tsukishima laughs._

_'What an idiot,' he thought as Tsukishima observed the smaller one's reactions. Hinata's face scrunched in confusion initially, then it stretched into a large smile. A smile that is as radiant as the sun; too warm, too bright, but right now it's welcoming. He can't stop his own laughter, it's like it isn't even his. It's how he used to laugh, but locked away for so long. He looks up to see the ball being stretched out to him._

_Although they were separated by the net, the ball was passed underneath as if ignoring the net completely. Instinctively, he himself reaches out and the weight of the ball rests in his own hands. This weight, Tsukishima knows, isn't the volleyball itself. No, the volleyball's just the shape that its taken, but it envelops everything that he feels about it, and the subsequent chain reactions as well. The inner turmoil between hate and love, the conflict of just breezing by to achieve the bare minimum and striving to be the best. Should it be ironic that someone like Hinata was passing this to him? No, Tsukishima dismisses, t's because it's Hinata that this makes any sort of sense._

_He looks back up at Hinata, who Tsukishima could see is fading a little, the landscape of the gym could be faintly seen through him. He opens his mouth to let out a few words, maybe so that the other could hear him._

_"Thank you"_

_The orange haired teen had disappeared in front of him, leaving just him and the volleyball in his hands in the middle of the gym. The residue of the radiant warmth from the teen remains, but trails off farther into the gym. But, now he knew what to do._

He ducks slightly, lifting the net above his head, and enters the other side of the court. He keeps walking on, slowly but surely, with a certain warmth that he had been missing for a long, long time.

 

The alarm beeping rang only a second later after his eyes opened to the blurry landscape of his room. "What an odd dream..." he mumbled to himself as he lazily turned off the alarm and put on his glasses. His vision became instantly clearer, with everything in the room as orderly as it was the night before. He should start getting ready, but his body wasn't ready yet. He just sat there, reflecting the details of the dream he just had. Of Hinata. That gym. Nii-san.

"Heh," Tsukishima had to laugh to himself a little, perhaps because he was relieved at what the dream was saying, perhaps because he felt dumb that he didn't notice before, or maybe a little bit of both. 

Practice will be interesting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had it so Tsukishima used to call his older brother "nii-chan" when he was younger then "nii-san" as he got older. It shows the the age change within the dream (hopefully).


	7. I Want To Be Warm, But I Don't Want To Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Have you ever wondered why flies gravitate toward the light?"
> 
> "What are you talking about" 
> 
> "..."

Practice _was_ interesting, which was a first in a sense. The dull ache left on his fingertips and forearms were more akin to a comforting familiarity than the usual vague annoyance, and even Yamaguchi's constant "Tsukki"s were more of a comfort than usual. The smell of light sweat, fresh towels and _boy_ tingled his nose and Tsukishima Kei paid no attention to any of these things. 

No, what he _was_  paying attention to was the returned towel he's currently running his thumb over under his desk. Not exactly freshly washed, judging by the non-lingering smell, but washed nonetheless. He has to resist this urge. this lingering urge that he does and doesn't know where it's coming from, to smell said towel. Maybe he'll catch a whiff of what Hinata's house smells like, of what he smells like. He doesn't know; the dream indicated that he smelled of sunshine and grass, of saronpas and summer, but that's only a dream. Dreams come from your subconscious, never an indication of something that could be real. No, no he needed confirmation. He needed to know.

So that's what he's going to do. 

The process was simple, really. Tsukishima was leaning along the bike rack, looking up at the lit club room against the dark skies tinted with remnants of orange. Some clear R&B soothed his eardrums, and he breathes evenly. The towel is back in his hands after the long day, and after checking if the coast is clear, he brings it up to his nose. Smells like something citrus-y, like an orange. Like the summer. Just as he thought it would. He sighs as he recalls the brief conversation that took place this morning just before class.

 

_“Tsukishima!!”_

_He turns around, and yamaguchi got the hint and went ahead to the classroom (this was one of those times that he was glad his friend could take a hint) just as a ball of orange ran toward him. Bounded toward him even, despite the shout of one of those old teachers to not run in the halls. Hinata pants a little, his hair disheveled as usual, hands on his knees as he catches his breath._

_A short arm thrusts out, hitting Tsukishima a little strongly in the stomach._

_“Your towel!! Here”_

_“Can you speak proper Japanese? Or can you only speak in fragments like a child”_

_“I am NOT a child!!”_

_Tsukishima couldn't help himself; he had to add that jab. It's hard not to. Plus, Hinata always takes the bait; he always meets his expectations._

_“It, I washed it so it's clean. So, yeah”_

_Hinata was still talking in fragments, and for some reason, fidgety. His fingers were curled around the strap of the light yellow messenger bag, gripped tighter than necessary._

_Tsukishima looks at the towel, looks back at Hinata._

_“Meet me after practice at the bike rack” the words were out of his mouth before he could contemplate, before he could fully formulate a plan. Internally, Tsukishima is smacking himself for doing that. But by that point it was too late._

_“But I have clean up duty today”_

_“I'll wait”_

_Hinata seemed taken aback by my response, or more like taken aback by the whole conversation in general. But, his eyes looked different; it has a gleam that Tsukishima had seen in matches. The gleam that captivates all those around him._

_“Okay…!!”_

_Tsukishima himself turns around as soon as the affirmative comes through, giving a nonchalant wave to the orange haired teen who wasn't moving from his spot in the hallway._

Tsukishima sighs a little; how could he just spontaneously say that he’ll wait here when he didn't even fully understand as to why he wanted to meet up Hinata. His eyes shut slowly, basking in the temporary darkness his eyelids gave him. Not that he hasn't scripted something, but, knowing the guy, his pattern was going to be thrown off. It always was.

 

“Tsukishima?”

“Hinata.”

 

A simple greeting in contrast to the light buzz humming from his chest cavity. A cool facade in contrast to the warmth he feels inside. The shorter of the two looks like he doesn't know what to do; the fret in his expression tells as much.

 

“I'll walk you partway”

 

“...?! Okay?”

 

Tsukishima stands up straight as he walks off a little, but slowly so that the smaller of the two had time to unlock his bike from the rack.

 

The roads were lit by the streetlights, but not so much as to block the starlit sky. Silence hung between the two for awhile, but that wasn't meant to last; there's only so long that Hinata Shouyo could stay quiet.

 

“So. Why did you wait for me?”

 

Tsukishima sighs a little, and stops his steps under a streetlight. He turns around to see those hazel eyes, looking directly at him. Pondering. But something else too. His face lifts toward the light above. Some stray bugs were gravitating to the artificial light, and behind them all far away, he thinks that asteroids gather around stars in a similar fashion. Maybe.

 

“Do you ever wonder why flies gravitate toward light?”

 

“What are you talking about”

 

“...”

 

Again Hinata didn’t betray his expectations; the other teen isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. But Tsukishima has his pride, he isn't going to just come out and say things. That's not his way. He brings his face back down to look at Hinata square in the eyes.

 

“It's because the light is warm. They’re attracted to it like they can't help it; it's in their nature. But isn't it stupid?”

 

“What's stupid about that. Why are we even talking about fli--.”

 

“Because they could burn.” Tsukishima stops what he says, his eyes focusing to the side. It's not something that Hinata would get, he knew that. But, he felt the compulsion to say it. No, he needed to say that. Because he couldn't directly say anything. He got burned once with the bright light; he didn't want to go through that again. But the warmth, the pull of the illuminating light, was enticing and so, so very hard to resist.

 

“But, they go to the light because they like it right? Then that's fine!”

 

Tsukishima turns with his eyes open, staring directly into those eyes. Honest, straightforward, knows what they want.

 

“Or wait, is there another reason?? Hmmm…”

 

A crease forms between Hinata’s brows as he concentrates, and all Tsukishima could do was stare. A few seconds pass in silence as one contemplates and the other can’t think for a split second, if a pin dropped it could be heard for miles away. Tsukishima lets out a sigh that he didn’t even know he was holding, and presses his index finger into the other’s crease.

 

“You’re going to end up scowling like the King if you keep doing that”

 

“I..!!”

 

Hinata’s eyes fly open, and under the streetlight Tsukishima could see the hues of pink beginning to form in the other’s cheeks. Stunned into silence, Tsukishima presumes; this was probably the first time they really had any sort of physical contact aside from that forced handshake. His finger lingers for a touch longer than socially acceptable, then he passes right past Hinata.

 

“See you tomorrow, Hinata”

 

He doesn’t hear a goodbye as he takes his steps, but

 

“Wait!”

 

His feet instinctively stop and turn around. Hinata was only a few feet away, under the streetlight; he could go back so that the other wouldn’t shout, but where’s the fun in that?

 

“Let’s do this again! Tomorrow!”

 

Hinata’s grip on those handles seem a little tighter before, and his body’s minutely shaking. Tsukishima merely smiles a little before putting his headphones back on, walking back into the intermittent changes of street light to darkness. His heartbeat is louder than any music he could play through his headphones, his face a little warmer than normal at this time of night.

 

And he doesn’t notice the little curve of a smile left on his facade. All he knows is that, maybe he'll risk getting burned for this light. 

 

* * *

 

He waits until he could no longer see the tall first-year’s form before letting out a breath that he was holding until then. His heart was begging to be let out of his chest, ready to burst; his face felt so warm he could boil an egg on it. And he still doesn’t understand why.

  
All Hinata knows is that that smile from his dreams was real, and that maybe, maybe he’ll be able to see it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thank you so much for you patience! Here's the final chapter; at this point this may continue into a series but still debatable at this point. I hope you all were able to enjoy the awkward Tsukihina blooming romance! Happy holidays!


End file.
